


Taken

by ReadingBennie



Series: Ben and Maggie [3]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Benedict Cumberbatch Fandom, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, TIFF 14, TIG Q&A
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadingBennie/pseuds/ReadingBennie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The OFC is having a bad week when Ben accidentally drops a ball at The Imitation Game Q&A.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taken

**Author's Note:**

> Switching it up and writing this little bit at the beginning. Whoa. 
> 
> So this thing kinda just happened. I sat down and before I knew it, there were over 1000 words in response to the "Yummy deliciousness" silliness. 
> 
> Um, it's a bit angst-y at the start; like my OFC (who by the way, now has a name!) I too was having a bad, bad week. So this kind of helped me a little. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The lights came up after the film with a roaring, thunderous applause. I dug around in my purse for another tissue. The film had left me completely destroyed. Unable to find a tissue, I settled for wiping my eyes on my sleeve. To hell with smearing my makeup, I was pretty sure that all of my mascara had been cried off. _I must look terrible. Oh god…. I hope nobody pays attention to me…_

While I was trying to put myself back together, I heard the Q&A portion begin. I halfheartedly listened; I was so emotionally drained from the day that right at this moment, a good sleep sounded more appealing than the Q&A. _Maybe I should pay attention though… Some of these questions are really good… ha, this portion proves that the press conferences should be moderated by fans…_

“Ben...Yummy…Deliciousness…”

I perked up. What?! Did that woman seriously just say _that_ to Ben? I straightened my back, craning my neck towards the stage to get a better look at him while he answered the question. 

“Sorry, I’m already taken.” Ben’s face was a brilliant shade of red as he stammered out an answer. “Erm… Uh…Crap…” He continued to stutter on. The place was frantic.

I needed to get out of there. I needed to move.

Everything was a muffled roar as I staggered to my feet and stumbled to the door of the theater. I needed out. And I couldn’t seem to get it fast enough. I cautioned a glance back at the crowd. No one seemed to notice me leaving; perhaps if I had looked closer, I’d have seen the one pair of eyes that had latched onto me. I practically fell out of the door into the hallway and took off towards the exit. 

When I got out of the theater, the night breeze was cold on my cheeks. I reached up to feel new tears. I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address to my hotel. The cabbie snuck a few glances at me in the mirror but remained quiet, leaving me to cry in peace. I silently thanked him for that.

I pushed some bills into the cabbie’s hand and shot out of the car and into the hotel. I felt like everyone was staring at me. _Probably because they are. Women walking about crying and avoiding attention always merit a good stare._ At least no one stopped on my way to my room.

I fell into a heap on the bed and let out a few shaky sobs. Why did I even care so much? Pushing myself up, I scrubbed my cheeks, took a deep breath and set about packing. I had an overnight flight to back home, having only been granted a few short days off from work to spend at TIFF.

Packing finished, I showered. The water was scalding, numbing the internal pain I felt. I scrubbed my skin raw, like I was trying to erase the thought of today from my skin. When I got out, I took a moment, shocked at my reflection in the mirror. I was a woman wrecked: my skin a raw, angry red from the abuse of my loofa and the heat of the water, my eyes, swollen, bloodshot, and glazed over.

I silently dressed, trying to block any and all thoughts from my mind. My phone was buzzing madly on the nightstand but I ignored it. I made one last sweep of the room for my things. Knowing that my phone would continue to buzz, I flipped it off. I gathered up my things and made the trek to the lobby to checkout.

The universe works in funny ways, as the cabbie that brought the crying mess I was to the hotel from the theater was the cabbie that drove the frazzled woman I was now from the hotel to the airport. Ever the gentleman, he refrained from speaking during the drive. _God bless cabbies. Keeping their noses to themselves._ As he helped me to unload my luggage from the car, he placed a gentle hand on my arm. “The next time you cry, cry happy tears. Best wishes to you, dear.” I silently handed him the fare and walked into the airport.

I breezed through security and made my way to the gate. With a good few hours to kill before my flight, I pulled out some essays and began grading my students’ work. While it was calming, there was only so much repetition my mind could handle in regards to the history of early church music. To keep my distraction going, I whipped out my repertoire binder and began building a Christmas program for my Year 10 mixed ensemble.

The hours literally dissolved as I lost myself in the music. I was startled out of my trance by the gate workers voices blaring over the intercom. Grabbing my bags, I made my way onto the plane. Perks of being first class meant I boarded first and could go back to distracting myself. At least, most times I fly; tonight, not so much. 

“Hey, you weren't answering your phone. Are you okay?” Ben was sitting in my seat. “I saw you run out of the theater, were you not feeling well? Darling, what’s going on?”

“You’re sitting in my seat. I always sit by the window.” I replied, dumbly.

Ben got out of the seat and took my bags. I quickly snatched the things I’d want for the flight as he put the rest in the overhead bins. As we sat down, he made to talk to me. I bowed my head and hoped he’d get the idea that I wanted to be left alone. He did.

At some point I’d fallen asleep. I woke up with a jolt, my head having lolled to the side and landing on Ben’s shoulder. I sat up and quickly looked to my right to see if he’d noticed. He hadn't; Ben himself had fallen asleep, hands folded loosely in his lap and his chin pressed to his chest, which would most likely result in neck pain. His glasses had slipped to the tip of his nose, one tiny jerk away from falling off his face.

I flipped up the arm rest, positioned my body as best I could in front of his, and reached with both hands to remove his specs from his face. His breath was warm and soft against my skin. Having successfully taken his glasses off, I moved to sit back and in the process, bumped him, startling Ben awake.

“Wass goin’ on?” Ben slurred. “We landed? Wassa time? Where’d m’glasses go?”

He looked around, a slightly lost expression to his face. I noted that he’d changed for the flight; soft grey track bottoms, grey Pink Floyd tee, a cardigan, and _his dress shoes_. His movements were a bit sluggish as he shifted in his seat to face me.

“You forgot to put your moccasins in your carry-on, didn't you?” I asked, handing his glasses back. 

“Thanks. And no, I didn't forget to pack them. I left them at home.” Ben took his glasses and put them back on. I could hear his lisp coming back, he was utterly exhausted. “So, ah, I don’t suppose you’d be up to telling me what’s got you in a tizz, would you?”

“Ben,” I felt small; my eyes were starting to burn as tears welled up. “Ben, did you really mean to tell everyone that you were taken?” 

He looked absolutely flabbergasted. “Darling, you got upset over that? It was a joke, a stupid answer for a stupid question; Matthew was twatting about saying that he had first dibs on any ‘tasting.’”

“Oh.” The tears were falling. I still felt angry with him and now angry at myself for behaving so stupidly.

“Mags, Maggie, don’t cry.” Ben reached out and grabbed my face, brushing the tears away with his thumb. He rested his forehead on mine. “Darling, what’s really going on?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I just… I don’t know. I've been having a shit week, and then I got a phone call from my mom saying that things were a bit wonky at home but not to worry ‘I just wanted to let you know’ and of course, knowing me, I’m worrying my butt off and” It was all coming out. Every little thing. I tried to keep my volume down. “I heard back from the Schubert club yesterday that my audition wasn't good enough, so I can’t be a member this year, and then I come to Toronto to see you after working so hard to get the time off and I don’t even get five minutes with you and I had to sleep in a completely different hotel. And to top it off, you go and tell the whole world that you’re dating and you don’t even care and we agreed that we’d keep to ourselves for a good long while, and I just feel so stupid!”

“Oh, Mags, don’t feel stupid. I admit it wasn't a very good joke. You know that I would never tell anyone about us, not without your express permission and you right by my side. When the time is right for both of us, then we’ll let the world know. But for right now, I want to keep you all to myself.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest.

“And I’m sorry that we didn't get to see each other. I really am, because I was so excited to have you here. And of course, my stupid schedule cocked it all up. Next time you join me, I’ll have you room with Karen, and then you can pop on over and you know.” Ben pulled back a bit and wagged his eyebrows at me.

I couldn't help the giggle that popped out. “No, I don’t know. What will happen when I pop on over?” 

“You get to taste my deliciousness. As I’m quite yummy.”

“Oh my god!” I began to laugh harder. “I can’t believe that woman actually asked you that!”

Ben silenced my laughter with a firm kiss. I moaned a little as he traced his tongue along the seam of my lips. Cupping his jaw, I lightly scratched at the stubble growing back and opened my mouth to him, returning every lick, suck, and nip with fervor. I missed him. I pulled back before things went too far.

“Your fans have no idea just how yummy you are.”

Ben groaned.

“Oh, hush up, Ben. When we get home, you’re going to let me finish ‘tasting your deliciousness’ and” I leaned into him, brushing my lips against his ear. “I might just let you taste mine.”


End file.
